Emma Mnaya-buzy

Copper Child Emma Mnaya-buzy

Copper Child binds hundreds of pale bristles joining them at a point from which streaks of colourful sensations are released.

A palette of primary shades and shadows on silent stilts.
A puzzle, a labyrinth of dark thorny hedges or translucent and nimble
as pink petals of scattered Nympheas in a shallow hidden pond.

The silent sweep, into a blanket of warm reverie, where an African girl child falls a sleep
on a small hill while migrating birds form a white arrow in the blue sky.

Agonised sighs that leave so much un said, tangible memories that crumble and flake and
those that take us beyond our sandy dreams.
The heady scent of wild tropical blooms, dancing dust in deserts dry and red compact
earth patching tufts of vivid green.

Words, relating, unveiling, endlessly vigourated in vines of velvety verse.

E. M. B